


Find Me Here Amidst the Chaos

by tplink



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Angst, Angst with attempts at humor, Background Sylvando/Hendrik and undeveloped Jasper/Hendrik, Hendrik & Erik, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Takes place in Act II before Arboria, The boys are fighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25257082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tplink/pseuds/tplink
Summary: Shortly after recovering his memories, Erik begins to question whether or not he can see himself standing next to the Luminary as an equal. Luckily and unluckily for him, an argument may give Erik and Eleven just the answers they need.Discontinued.
Relationships: Camus | Erik & Hero | Luminary, Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 67





	1. Watch the World Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d and titled by my beautiful wife doperperson. There will be two chapters. Anyways Luminerik is so cute and wholesome so here is some angst while I try to figure out how to write them.
> 
> Also, Sylvando speaks a little Puerto Rican slang here because the español in the game was corny. “Sato” means a stray dog or a mutt, while “Ay bendito” translates to “blessed” in English but is really just how we say “Oh my god!” Also Hendrik totally understands “Valorian” too since he partially grew up there. For the background Sylvendrik. Wink wink.

A bitter chill shook through Erik, and it wasn’t because of the cold. The freezing snow wasn’t anything that the boy couldn’t handle. In fact, it took a lot to really, truly rattle Erik. He liked to think that he walked through life with a certain, impenetrable air of indifference following him whenever he went. Perhaps it was only a way of coping with the bad hand, well, several bad hands of cards he had been dealt in life. Whatever the reason was, it had served him just fine… for the most part.

The five of them sat around camp. There was Eleven of course, Erik himself not too far off, Sylvando, Rab, and for some reason Hendrik. It was almost just like the “old times”, before the World Tree fell, minus the usual company of Jade and the twins, who their little rag tag group of weirdos had yet to reunite with. Erik was all too cautious of the newest addition to the team, however, and found that when Hendrik was around Erik would literally rather be anywhere else. Maybe it was simply a matter of old habits being too hard to outgrow.

He had yet to ask just what in the word Eleven and the others were thinking in letting the former general of the Heliodor knights follow them around. Between the moments of finally remembering who he was and reuniting with his sister, the question had simply never had the chance to come up. But… He couldn’t seriously be the only one to raise an eyebrow, could he?

Unhelpful and unaware of Erik’s current dilemma, Sylvando stood at ease and was currently regaling the others with extravagantly dramatic tales of their former endeavors. And it went to support his theory that no, he was the only one who wanted to address the metaphorical elephant in the room. That was another thing. With how freakishly… tall Hendrik was, was it unfair to call him a literal elephant too?

Sylvando’s voice popped Erik from his bubble. “Ellie-poo, whatever happened to that adorable little _sato_? You know, the one you guys named Hendrik?”

“You named a street dog after me?” Hendrik seemed almost touched at the notion, but it was short lived once he realized the implications behind it.

“Uh huh, it was back when you were still… you know.” Eleven waved his hands. “The little guy tried to bite Erik in the butt because he smelled food in his pockets, and after that he just wouldn’t stop following us. Veronica made the comparison, and well, the name just kind of stuck.”

Whatever Hendrik said next in reply didn’t matter, and Erik tuned the deep lure of his voice from out of his head. He wasn’t in the mood for hearing about Hendrik the dog, Hendrik the person… 

No, it didn’t matter. Not when he was here. Sitting around and being all chummy with his partner as if he hadn’t been chasing them both around the world on a murderous rampage just a few months ago. Erik was the one who had gotten amnesia, but it seemed like Eleven was the one who had so easily forgotten everything the two of them had been through. It would have been best to put his resentment aside and carry on—it wasn’t like Hendrik hadn’t helped Eleven, helped him. Erik was not unused to lurking in the shadows of insecurity, omissions, and half truths. He was a creature of habit, and shadows could be a dark place after-all. So, instead of bringing his worries to light, he decided to stay in the dark and stew in his own bitterness. 

Of course, Eleven wasn’t very keen on that proposition. The other boy settled closer to him, bumping their shoulders together in a playful greeting where words weren’t needed. 

Speak of the devil… Erik thought. Maybe it was some weird Luminary thing or whatever, but Erik often felt that Eleven had a greater say in what happened in his life than even Erik himself did. Not that he really minded; he knew that as soon as he had spoken with the Seer. Normally he was more than fine drifting in whatever direction Eleven pulled him… but this? Something felt off, something nagged at him and wouldn’t let go until Erik ripped it off from his back.

“You okay?” Eleven asked calmly, “You’ve been pouting since before we even made camp.”

“I’m not pouting,” Erik replied, but true to form he was very much, indeed, pouting. He felt embarrassed, vulnerable in more ways than one, and his nagging insecurities helped wipe the frown clear off his face with one quick swipe of his hand. “I was just… thinking.”

Eleven smiled. “Thinking? If I know you, and I like to think that I do, you and thinking are a dangerous combination.” He wasn’t wrong, Erik knew; his mind could be a rather dangerous place when left to its own devices. 

But when Erik only stared back at him, his expression still rather grim even in light of his friends teasing and after the delicate extraction of his (not) pout, a concerned Eleven frowned in return. “Oh? You’re being serious.” It wasn’t a question, simply a remark.

“Yeah, Lev,” sighed Erik anyway, “I’m being serious.”

Rab stood up suddenly, leading the way for a chance to give the two boys a rare chance to talk alone. “Oy, I’m just about dead on my feet, I think it’s time for bed. You know how us old people can get when we don’t get our eight hours.”

Sylvando was quick to follow Rab’s example. “Oh that’s right!” He turned to Hendrik, who hadn’t moved. “Henny, I just remembered that Obsidian wanted to talk to you earlier. Mentioned something about a… pay raise in apples.”

“Obsidian hasn’t brought up these concerns with me before.” Hendrik frowned. He seemed almost betrayed at the idea of his horse keeping a secret from him. “Are you certain?”

“ _¡Ay, bendito!_ Just come with me you big, stupid beast!” Sylvando’s voice deepened, almost darkened in his exasperation, before he dragged a confused Hendrik away. Hendrik still frowned, and his eyes worriedly looked to Eleven as would a diligent caretaker who did not want to leave his charge unattended, but Eleven only smiled and shrugged helplessly in return and soon they were both out of sight.

Elevens gaze turned back to Erik, staring at him expectantly. It was easy to drown out the now faint sound of Sylvando and Hendrik arguing in the night air. “Well then, what’s the matter? Wouldn’t you feel a lot better if you just came out with it?” Eleven paused. “Are you still worried about your sister?”

It was awfully sweet of Eleven to be so concerned for his Mia. But Erik knew she was in good hands with the priests in Sniflheim, or at least, he thought with a heart weighed down with ugly bitterness, she was in better hands than when his own had been the only ones who cared enough to hold her.

“It isn’t that.” Erik figuratively waved away the thought. And it wasn’t technically a lie. “I’ll always be worried about Mia, I mean, you’ve sort of met her. The kid is a literal waking nightmare and a complete pain. But something else has been weighing me down, and I don’t really know how to come out with it, so I’ll just go ahead and say it upfront.”

“You can tell me anything, you know,” Eleven held his hand then, and Erik wanted to believe with everything he had that that was true. 

Erik stared dumbly at their hands, linked together and warm. The first time Eleven had ever grabbed on to his hand Erik had nearly lost his mind. 

“Alright,” Erik finally said. “I don’t like Hendrik.”

Then to his utter surprise, his friend simply laughed, shoulders slumping and his face turning toward the stars with a smile. Erik wished that he could share in that relief. 

“Oh, is that all? Erik… Nobody likes Hendrik. At least not at first; when it was just the two of us at the Last Bastion, I wanted to throw up at the sight of his face. I even cried to my mum about it.” Eleven leaned closer. “It’ll be alright. You just have to give it time, and besides, you have me, grandad, and Sylv.”

Erik shook his head. “That’s not the point, El,” he sighed, pulling his hand away to run them through his hair. Burying himself alive sounded a lot better than having this conversation. “I don’t want to give him time. I don’t trust him and I don’t like him being around you. He thinks himself some kind of hero.”

“That isn’t true.” Eleven frowned. “Hendrik isn’t here to soothe his ego. He’s scared, and confused, just like I am. Every single one of us is still trying to make sense of all of… this. But he’s changed, I know it.”

“Oh?” Erik thought back to their encounter with Jasper in Gondolia. How he had stayed behind for the sake of helping Eleven move forward. His mind wandered back still, to when Hendrik had shot them both from their horse, had forced El off of a cliff. “And where does that leave me? Am I just supposed to stand in front of you, be a human shield every time you think someone who tried to kill you suddenly finds themselves and has had a change of heart?”

“Erik!” Eleven shouted, but his voice shook with an unmasked sadness. “That’s not fair…”

Eleven never raised his voice at him, towards anyone for that matter. It was the first time they had ever had a real disagreement. And a part of Erik knew that his line of thinking was selfish, cowardly, especially in light of shortcomings from his own past being outed like some kind of grand spectacle, but Erik found himself too wrapped up in his own hurt to care. If he was being left behind, and he knew he was, then Erik wanted to be the one who cut the rope first.

Yes, Erik had spent so long living alone, in hiding, and in confusion and fear. Now that he had found himself again, Erik had all of the time in the world to think about who he really was. To think about where he fit in the grand scheme of someone else’s destiny. Ever since he had first met the Luminary, down in the deepest corners of Heliodor, he had thought of himself as a confidant, a protector. More importantly, a friend and an equal.

Now, when he looked up at Eleven, he wondered if he could still see himself standing next to him. He had finally been granted forgiveness, but after the dust settled Erik was left unsure of where he belonged.

It would have been easier to voice these insecurities, then maybe Eleven would have had a better chance of understanding his point of view, but Erik was afraid. Of what exactly, he didn’t really know anymore. So instead, he lashed out again, forming a protective barrier over himself.

“It is unfair,” Erik breathed. “It’s unfair that this entire time I’ve stood by you, that I’ve always believed in the Luminary, even when others didn’t! It used to be just the two of us. And now you have… him around, it’s like you don’t even need me anymore.”

Eleven’s face lit up as if some theory of his was just confirmed. “So you aren’t mad at Hendrik, not really,” He paused, placing a hand across his chest, “you’re mad at me.”

“No! …Yes! I don’t really know, Lev. I don’t even know if I was even on your side to begin with or if I was just doing it all for myself. Maybe that’s why I’m so angry, maybe even after all of this time I’m still no better than who I used to be.”

Erik looked down, seconds rolled by as he kept digging himself down a deeper, darker hole. 

“Maybe I should just leave.”

“Erik… how long have you felt this way?”

He had to stifle a bitter laugh. “I don’t know,” he repeated. And there was a long, pregnant pause between them. “Tomorrow, you lot’ll be headed towards Arboria, and I won’t be coming along.”

“So you’re just going to give up then? After everything we’ve been through… even after I’ve finally found you again?” El’s eyes welled up with unshed tears. Whether he wanted Eleven to be angry, yell at him, or beg, Erik was unsure. “Just like that?”

Just looking at him was too much, Erik had to turn away. He couldn’t stand the sight or thought of Eleven crying, let alone being the person responsible for those tears. He had only seen him cry once before, back when they had walked into the open field of ashes that used to be Cobblestone. Eleven didn’t weep then, but he did that very night at camp when all had gone quiet and he thought no one was around to listen. But Erik had been there for him, wrapped an arm around him, still practically strangers at that point. Oddly, things felt so much simpler then. 

Whatever this was, it wasn’t what Erik had wanted, but still, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Yeah,” Erik said, “just like that.”


	2. A Battle of Wits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lied to myself when I thought I could finish this in two chapters. It’s gonna be three now, maybe more. Thank you so much for the warm n sweet response to this fic so far, I teared up a bit ngl.
> 
> Beta read by my beautiful wife Doperperson. We just ordered Eleven and Erik action figures and can’t wait to play Luminerik dolly house.
> 
> Anyway, Erik takes a bit of a detour.

Erik stole away that very morning. He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, and he thought that running away—no, leaving of his own volition, was a much better alternative to lying around and licking his wounds or Yggdrasil forbid, thinking about whatever in the world he was doing with his life for once. No, as far as Erik was concerned he was a free agent now and didn’t have a care in the world. The question wasn’t what had he done, but simply, what could he do now that he wasn’t following the Luminary around like a lovesick puppy.

That had been days ago now, and Erik still wasn’t sure which direction should be taken.

He had absolutely lied to himself, tricked himself into believing that cutting all ties with Eleven and the others was what he truly wanted. After coming to this realization practically immediately, his first reaction was to turn tail and beg Eleven for forgiveness. Forgiveness for not trusting the other boy’s judgement, for making him cry. And that was just when Erik had been standing right there… he could only imagine the inconceivable terror that became of Eleven when the sun finally rose and the group realized Erik’s departure. Quiet though Eleven might have been, with clear eyes and an unassuming gaze, there was undoubtedly a whirlwind of emotions lying underneath.

Thousands of possibilities played out in Erik’s head, and not a single one of them was reassuring in any way. Most of them involved Eleven crying, stumbling in battle somewhere, or falling off of a cliff because he couldn’t cast the water away from his eyes. To cope, a vision of Hendrik trying to console his former partner mercifully came to mind.

His friends materialized before him and it was almost as if Erik had never left. He watched the scene unfold.

“Uh, there, there Luminary,” Hendrik placed a hand on Eleven’s shoulder. His next words were uttered with total conviction, but even still the man seemed… confused. “All will be well,” Hendrik said, “even though I am useless and ugly and obviously only get dressed in the dark.”

“Damn it, Hendrik,” Eleven sobbed and pushed him away. “I can’t even look at you. I wish Erik was here instead.” It seemed like he wanted to say more, but any further insults were washed away from the edge of his tongue by oncoming waves of despair.

“I’m not even that good at swords.” Hendrik offered as an apology for his supposed uselessness. “I wish that Erik was among us as well. I would hastily bestow upon him my coin purse.”

Sylvando meanwhile tutted, arms crossed, while he looked over to Rab, who was himself the visage of a disappointed grandfather. 

“ _Dios mio_ , can you believe this? I forgot how much this guy sucks,” was all Sylvando had to say about Hendrik.

Rab nodded. “Aye laddie,” he said.

“Oh, Erik, where have you gone?” They all moaned.

His friends suddenly vanished, trailing away like clouds of smoke in a breeze, as Hendrik called out to him.

“Erik!” 

The sound of horse hooves galloping against the ground accompanied Hendrik’s sudden shouting. And for a moment Erik, still in his day dreaming, had thought it was simply the illusion of the man who was yelling for him and ready to make good on the promise to hand over his wallet. 

He was quick to realize how mistaken he was, of course, and an undignified yelp tumbled from his lips as the very real visage of Obsidian towered over him, nostrils flaring as his beady eyes bore down at Erik. The horse’s eyes were just as black as his namesake.

Hendrik looked none the better, and he too stared at the former thief in what he could only surmise was disapproval and disgust. At least, as small a solace as it was, they both seemed unhappy to see each other. Erik tried not to swallow the sudden lump lodged in his throat. Anyone could look intimidating sitting at the top of a dark steed, it didn’t matter a bit if that person was the current source of all of his problems.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Erik blew air past his lips. 

Making a run for it seemed like a great idea, possibly the first one Erik has had in days, but he knew that he was no match for Obsidian. A lecture from Hendrik (or death at his hands) was only inevitable at this point, but Erik wouldn’t go down without a fight. “How did you even find me all of the way out here? Actually, wait. Don’t answer that. I just remembered you used to chase us around for a living.”

Even if his jeer was hurtful, Hendrik paid it no mind. Instead he slid off from his steed and walked in pace along side Erik. 

No… He wouldn’t—couldn’t—stomach the thought of looking at him just yet. He felt like a child who had just been caught doing something naughty, so instead the thief kept a steely gaze on the road ahead.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Erik scoffed. He wasn’t about to tell Hendrik that he had no idea how to actually answer that question. 

“You know, Mr. Big Important Hero, when people walk off in the middle of the night without telling anyone, it means that it’s none of your business.”

“It is exactly my business when it involves the Luminary,” Hendrik’s voice took on a deeper edge. “I vowed to be his sword, his shield, his unswerving companion—“

Good grief, did he really need to stand around and listen to Hendrik sullenly prance around about his oaths? Erik practically fell on his own knives every time El had been inconvenienced, wanted to help some poor troubled soul, or even so much as looked at some stranger at a tavern the wrong way. But did he go telling anyone who so much as leaned an ear over to listen? Hardly. That was the difference between them. He had been the Luminary’s partner.

And what of Hendrik? Well, he was just a dog.  
A dog looking for a new master after his old one cast him aside. For his time spent in the army, he might have understood the blatant concept of carrying out an order unquestionably. But what did Hendrik know about unconditional devotion? Damn, what did _Erik_ know about unconditional _anything_?

He had already told Eleven none too gently what he thought of the knight before he went about burning bridges and running away. A coward and a hypocrite though he might have proved himself, but Erik failed to see why Hendrik didn’t deserve the same gift of his honesty and biting tongue.

Right, he was glad Hendrik had found him after all. It was about time Erik really gave the man a piece of his mind. This bridge hadn’t even been built and already he was wielding a blazing torch.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up for a second.” Erik moved a hand up. “If Eleven sent you after me, you’re just wasting your time. I’m not going back.”

“He did no such thing.” Hendrik defended his charge immediately. If he hadn’t once been in the position where he would have done the very same, Erik would have rolled his eyes. 

“I followed you by no other compulsion but my own. However,” he paused. “I know not the reasons why you left like a thief in the night, but more importantly I do know that your untimely departure has caused Eleven great despair. Though frankly I find that you are wayward and a bad influence, you must cease your boyish sulking immediately and make peace with him.”

Did Hendrik just call him a bad influence? That glib bastard. Wait… did Erik just use the word “glib”? He would kick his own ass if he wasn’t about to put the beat down on Hendrik.

“You got a lot of nerve thinking you’re in any position to talk down to me.” They had both stopped any semblance of simply being on a nice stroll through the snow, opting instead to glare at one another. “You can’t order me around. I’m not one of your little soldiers.”

“You will right this wrong,” Hendrik crossed his arms. “even if I have to drag you back myself.”

Erik braced himself, as an invitation and opportunity for the other man to make good on his words just then. “Is that a threat, Mr. Hero?”

“It is so much more than that, _boy_ , it is a promise.”

They were upon each other soon after that, like a pair of rabid dogs only with more pride but far less dignity. 

Erik pulled a matching pair of daggers from his hips and noted that while Hendrik drew his shield, his axe was nowhere to be seen. 

Obsidian stood a few paces to the right, absent-minded and carefree as he chewed on a rather tasty looking apple. Almost as if the horse was used to his master pulling to the sidelines for a round of fisticuffs with the fellows every now and again. Wait, where did Obsidian even get an apple?

“Scared you’ll hurt me, Henny?” Erik taunted.

“Despite my objections, I told Eleven that I would not bring you back to him in pieces.”

For whatever Erik’s smaller frame lacked in strength he made up for in speed and litheness. The opposite could be said for Hendrik, who stood rigid and planted as a stone while Erik circled around him, blocking hit after hit but never taking his chance to strike back.

Until Erik, in his rage and despair, wore himself out. What he wanted more than anything in that moment was to tell himself that he could have spent the entire night making a human punching bag of Hendrik, that old fashioned bodily harm was really the only thing between Erik and his peace of mind. It would have taken thousands of his half hearted punches to take down the knight, but Erik was done in not only by himself but on top of it all a rather unfortunate kick straight to his stomach that sent him sprawling straight towards the ground.

Pain, a physical kind that was almost an after thought, vibrated through to his limbs, like a mallet to a gong rather than a boot to his intestines. 

Just as quickly he was jerked up haphazardly by the arm. Erik could not pull from Hendrik’s grasp, and though try as he might he and his only free arm were too short to land any punches to the man’s stupid face. Even his knife has disappeared somewhere in the scuffle, the steel growing cold in a bundle of snow. He settled for beating Hendrik on the chest with a balled fist, but his broad build absorbed every fistful in such a way that Erik might as well have been punching a tree.

“Get up,” Hendrik panted over the blows, “And get on the horse or so help me!” Obsidian’s ears perked up at being mentioned.

It was a losing battle at this point, Erik had been pushed into a corner. It hadn’t even been a fair fight. Unlike the previous times where he was about to lose (which were extremely few and far in between, mind you), there were no nearby cliffs to jump off from or weird Luminary magic, so Erik had no choice but to unleash an untapped technique.

He bit Hendrik.

Bit Hendrik right on the forearm to be precise, with every single one of his teeth. In a brief moment of coherency amidst the chaos Erik feared a bludgeoning to the head via shield, anything to get him and his sinister jaw away from the knight. But apparently Hendrik had been anticipating this new form of combat just about as much as Erik had been, which was to say not at all.

Instead Hendrik recoiled, pulling himself inward while he unleashed an undignified holler that soon evolved into a full blown scream. 

A sense of accomplishment flooded over the thief. That scream was like music to his ears, really. Even while still holding on for dear life, Erik wasn’t exactly… proud of himself, but a victory was a victory and you had to take whatever scraps life threw at you.

“Let go of my arm!” Hendrik yelled, voice shaking unlike anything he had ever heard. “Let go of me this instant!”

Erik muttered around a mouth full of sore loser, “Mnot until you pwomish to leave me awone.”  
It would not have been far off to say that his visage was like that of a cat who had caught a mouse. 

“A knight can never go back on his oath!” Hendrik hollered anew when Erik only sank his teeth in deeper in response. “You give me no quarter, which means I have no choice!”

He bit Erik back.

“Oww!” Erik cried and momentarily his hold had been broken. But he soon latched on once more with determination and he and Hendrik rolled to the ground, taking turns biting each other. Obsidian watched not too far off until the two settled into a heap of snow and sweat.

They were at a stalemate now. Neither could even move without worsening the damage to their egos, let alone any flesh.

And if it meant not admitting defeat, well, Erik probably would have stayed there forever. Or at least until their boney remains were eventually pried apart by whatever unlucky anthropologist eventually found them.

Erik did not always know when to quit, and it had become something of a blinding character flaw of his in the past few days. The thought of never seeing Eleven again, never being able to tell the other boy how he really felt about him, well… that was a shame that he wouldn’t be able to run away from.

Maybe, Yggdrasil bless his heart, Hendrik had made the right move in tracking Erik down. It was just too bad he didn’t have a chance to think on the proposition until he was biting the poor bastard.

“A compwomise, Hwendwik?” Erik spoke.

Hendrik shifted his eyes over. “Ahm listeming.”

“Ahm the coumt of thwee,” he ordered, and they both nodded in anticipation.

“Whm,”

“Twom,”

“Thwee!!”

A simple pry of the jaws and Erik and Hendrik were free. No further threat loomed in the air. Besides, resuming their fight now would have felt almost, wrong somehow. The mood had been ruined and there was no way that it could ever hope to recover.

The knight only stared in disdain at the remnants of teeth marks and slobber on his sleeve. “That was extremely unbecoming of one who swore to protect the Luminary.”

“Yeah, whatever, I hate you too. You gonna go run and cry to Sylvando about it?” Now that was a frightening thought.

“No,” Hendrik answered, not understanding that Erik’s jeer was simply a rhetorical question. “Besides, the last thing I need is to add another embarrassing story to his endless repertoire.”

Erik holstered his almost forgotten knife while Hendrik petted Obsidian on the nose.

“Come, Erik, I promised Lord Robert that we would reconvene with the others in Octagonia. And besides…” Hendrik seemed almost fearful as he spoke. “I imagine that we could use the trip ahead of us as time to… talk.”

Erik had been afraid that he would say that. His fears weren’t unfounded certainly; he and Hendrik owed each other an explanation, he owed a lot of explanations… to… everyone. But it wasn’t like Erik could trust his own mouth nowadays not to say something stupid, especially whenever it involved Yggdrasil’s favorite little leaf.

Well, at least it was a long way to Octagonia.

Hendrik pulled himself and Erik onto Obsidian. “Hey, uh… Hendrik?” Erik asked, almost beset with a sudden case of shypox when he wrapped his arms around the other man’s stomach. “You’re not gonna… tell Lev I bit you, right?”

It was quiet for a moment, before the knight sullenly slammed a fist against his heart. A stoic vow.

“This is a secret that will die whenever we do, Erik.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope anyone who made it to this point is enjoying it! Please share your thoughts if you feel so inclined. And as always you can reach me via twitter @linkcanthropy. 💖💕


	3. On the Up and Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back. I thought this and the conclusion would all be in one chapter but... burn out said no. And besides, I think having the Hendrik and Erik conversation getting it's own chapter seemed appropriate in the end. Partially beta read by my perfect wife Doperperson.

There was a particularly uncomfortable feeling looming in the air as Erik and Hendrik silently rode atop of Obsidian. The bitter chill of snowy wind beating at their faces was the last thing on Erik’s mind, even as that same breeze steadily grew warmer the further away they travelled from the white tundra of the Snaerfelt. 

The distance passing them by at the steady beat of Obsidian’s hooves was more than enough to pave the way for Erik’s thoughts to wander. While he thought of Eleven, his mind’s eye launched itself straightforward toward his final destination. 

Certainly, there were only a few short hours left between him and once again finding himself at the Luminary’s side. He still felt unsure of his place beside him and well, that was a discussion he would need to have with his friend, whether Erik wanted it to happen or not. 

But yet again the fear that wrapped itself around his heart made itself known and was almost too hard to miss. It made Erik ask himself, when they did finally arrive, what kind of horrifying reunion would be there to greet him? The terms they had departed on were not… subtle to say the least. He had made his disdain known, there was no grey area there, and he had departed without leaving any room for the tenderness, dedication, nor most of all the love he felt for Eleven, to fit in alongside of it. Emotions could be a catty, ugly thing, and Erik had those ugly emotions in spades. 

Were he not cautious of falling from Obsidian’s back in a daze, then perhaps Erik would have used the silence to comfort himself with another one of his… vivid daydreams. But enough time had been wasted chasing a dream. Instead he wondered, would he be accepted back and forgiven, or more distressingly, when Erik made his feelings known, would they be returned? 

Hendrik had made it seem so, at least when it came to the former. The knight had only mentioned that his sudden departure had caused Eleven “great despair”, whatever in the world that entailed, and he was solely dedicated to simply putting Erik back where he thought he was supposed to be. As if that would somehow correct things and everything would be as it was. They would be back to the reality where Eleven was happy and perfect, luminous, glowing, with Erik at his side stupidly in love with him, harboring that secret all for himself until the day he died.

And besides, with that same blind loyalty that always stood by Hendrik wherever he went, hand in hand with his inability to stop and ask questions, well, Erik doubted greatly that the man knew of the true nature of their argument, let alone what had caused it. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be fixing. If that truth came to light, what might he think then? It was an understatement to say that the former general was… protective of his newfound charge. But did that contract stop at only protecting Eleven from wounds of the mortal flesh? What about afflictions of the heart? Would he have second thoughts about _not_ cleaving Erik in half with an axe? 

He certainly hoped not.

Obsidian suddenly slowed, and soon the horse’s running pace ceased to a light, almost leisurely trot, and it took a second for Erik’s heart and stomach to catch up with the rest of his body.

Though his eyes were still locked on the road ahead of them, he knew that Hendrik’s attention was now upon him. The other man’s brows were furrowed in concentration and he could swear that there was a dash of hesitance lingering in that usually steely gaze, but Erik didn’t need those indicators to know that Hendrik was looking forward to addressing their situation just about as much as he was. 

There was no purpose in flowering their conversation with small talk. So, when Hendrik barreled straight to the point as he always did, Erik was for once almost grateful for it. 

“I hope that you can forgive the precipitance of my challenge to you, let alone the abruptness of our… engagement. I have never amounted to much in the way of words.” Hendrik’s shoulders slumped in remorse. “ _That_ had always been Jasper’s forte, however, he is no longer here to assist me in keeping my head stationed upon my shoulders. Indeed, my one strong point has always been in the ways of combat. I am not good at much else. I once told Eleven, as I am saying to you now, that I find that the blade speaks truer than words ever could.”

Hendrik continued, it was the most Erik had ever heard the man talk, let alone so openly and without the looming promise of violence. “His sword is a declaration of his kindness, his willingness to inspire others who have taken a wrong turn,” He was still speaking of Eleven. “Though I myself could not see that until it was almost too late. No… if I had been as good of a judge of character, based on the sword or not, as I had initially believed, then perhaps things would have turned out much differently than they had. I cannot say without lying that regret does not in part still drive me even now, even I as trekked out here to find you.”

“Though I may spend the rest of my life atoning for those mistakes, I hope you will allow me the opportunity to ask something of you, Erik,” He did not wait for an answer, a sign of approval or a rejection, not that Erik was in any position to deny him after their agreement to reach a compromise. This was a hurdle he had to climb over. 

“As you were upon me, your blade painted a vivid picture of your fear, I sensed your insecurity. There is something that screams at you to run. Though it pains me utterly to say, it is an emotion I have seen in myself more times than I would like to admit. And while I would not normally pry in the matters of the heart, I have the suspicion these emotions have something to do with your hasty departure the other night. So, forgive my forwardness once again, but I must ask you, what is it that you are afraid of?”

Erik looked down, a smirk graced his lips then, but it lacked any humor. What was he afraid of? Wasn’t that the million-gold question? The remaining flecks of pride in Erik wanted to yell that he wasn’t afraid of anything, not anymore, but he became resolute. He couldn’t keep hiding.

Instead he ran his hands through his hair, a subconscious habit he had formed to calm himself whenever he felt nervous. “That’s a good question, Mr. Hero,” Erik laughed, and though Hendrik could not see it riding at the front, his eyes shone with a starting line of tears.

It felt almost wrong to bring up these emotions with someone else, especially Hendrik of all people, without first telling Eleven. That had always been their strategy, as partners. But Erik supposed that was always his problem in the vaguest sense; things couldn’t be the same as they once were, and for the thousandth time Erik wondered where that left him. 

The first step he would have to take was this one. The first of many steps that would eventually bring him back to Eleven, and damn it all if that wasn’t his place.

And so, Erik opened up. “I was being stupid, I guess. Lev and I had a disagreement, and I said some things to him that I really regret. This started with just the two of us, and well, when you showed up I was afraid that maybe a down on his luck convict just wasn’t meant to stand next to someone like the Luminary. Not when he had the so-called greatest knight in Heliodor fighting for him now. You’re his sword and shield and whatever, right?” He sighed. “I didn’t have faith in his decision because I didn’t trust you. I still don’t know what to make of you, if I’m being completely honest.”

There was so much more that could have been said then, as the true extent of his feelings for Eleven were unknown to anyone, and Erik himself barely had a grasp on it. That love for the other boy had always been there, lying dormant, and conspicuous enough to his nature that he had almost missed out on experiencing their discovery entirely. It had become a second nature.

Stupid, for sure. But the words he did manage to utter still bore the truth, and it was a valiant start all the same. “I’m afraid of losing him,” Erik went on, “so instead of telling him how I really feel, I had to go be an idiot instead. I ran away, kind of makes for a self-fulfilling prophecy, eh?”

“I can understand your hesitance regarding my being here,” Hendrik seemed plaintive, but thoughtful. “I am undoubtedly certain were it the other way around, and had you committed the same atrocities in my place, I would have immediately cast you overboard from Sylvando’s ship as soon as we had discovered you stowed away. Regardless, though I spoke in a matter most unbecoming towards you earlier, it would be apt to say that you are a suitable companion to the Luminary and an irreplaceable ally.”

It could not be said with absolute certainty, but Erik suspected that he had just received a compliment. Such things were uncommon for him, especially being so accustomed to Veronica always biting at his ankles and foaming at the mouth like a rabid squirrel, but he knew in his heart of hearts for it to be true. A Hendrik compliment, if you would.

“Thanks?” He asked. “You know, Hendrik, you aren’t that bad either. Talking about your feelings and being all sensitive and stuff? I never would have expected it. In fact, it almost makes you seem like you’re an actual human being.” If there were Hendrik compliments running amuck, there was no reason why Erik couldn’t add his own flavor to the art of flattery.

His knightly escort coughed. “Perhaps I did lose touch with my own humanity, having unwittingly been in service to a monster like Mordegon for so long,” Erik hadn’t meant to bring up such a sore spot in his jesting, and he frowned. “I am grateful that Eleven had at least one stalwart companion when I was less than serviceable. Your willingness to question his judgement and converse with him as an equal is something I admire in you.”

Erik laughed, but for once it wasn’t bitterly. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it like that. This mouth of mine has always gotten me into more trouble than I care to deal with. But… well, if it’s brought Lev and I to where we are now, before all of this I mean, then I suppose it’s due a little bit of my respect.” 

“That’s the spirit, Erik,” Hendrik sounded, almost a bit too eagerly, like a proud father then. “I myself am working on it. I must confess that progress has been made, and I see Eleven as more than just a master to follow, but a confidant that I can discourse with. After he once rescued me from a beetle that had stationed at our campsite, I readily and openly discussed with him my fear of bugs.”

“Y-yeah… that’s wonderful, Hendrik. El is just a great guy like that. I’m happy for you.” Erik couldn’t help himself, it was almost too easy. “Is there anything else you wanna get off of your chest, while we’re stuck here on the road together?”

“Now that you bring it up,” Hendrik sighed. “I never told anyone this, but I am still brought to tears whenever I think of a picture book I had read when I was just a mere boy. It was a touching tale, one about a very brave little horse that…”

Erik decided to interrupt the other man when his voice began to waver. “Alright, big guy, let’s not rush into anything serious now.” He was ready for a lot of things, but he was not emotionally or physically prepared to deal with a sobbing Hendrik. 

“Thank you for stopping me before it was too late, Erik. I am glad that you’re here. It would seem that you have become a confidant as well.”

Smiling, Erik’s own face and tone softened. “I think I just realized that I’m glad you’re around, too. Besides, someone had to babysit El when I was too busy having my identity crisis. You can’t leave him alone for a second. Have you ever noticed that any time our party walks into a tavern, as soon as he opens his mouth, someone tries to punch him in the face?”

“Verily,” But Hendrik’s voice took a sheepish turn. Maybe he had some fun tale of adventure and rescue that he wasn’t ready to tell Erik. What kind of nonsense did Eleven put this man through? “He has told me he has a… very punch-able face. I still do not quite understand.”

“I said that to him once, trying to make sense of it all, you know? Don’t think too hard on it.” He shook his head, reminiscing. “It’s that goody-goody two-shoes stuff he’s always trying to pull. The Hero Instinct or whatever, I’m sure you probably have it too, but he has a special knack for it. Man, I tell you that one day he’s gotta realize that some people just don’t want help from a total stranger.”

“Weren’t you total strangers when you helped him escape prison?”

“Yeah, yeah, guess I’m not as tough as I think I am,” Erik blushed and crossed his arms. “I can’t say it wasn’t for partially selfish reasons but, maybe I’m just turning soft. Besides, El is usually the exception to most rules. At least the ones written down in my book.”

“Indeed, but whatever the reason may be, it would seem that we have arrived in Octagonia.”

“Oh, well,” He slid off of Obsidian when they stopped, ready to walk the rest of the way, while his feet momentarily dangled for purchase from the top of Hendrik’s ridiculously tall steed. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hero. And for… the enlightening conversation.”

“Erik, thank you for speaking with me,” Hendrik reiterated and placed an arm on the other’s shoulder. The instinct that normally screamed at Erik to make a run for it was no longer there. 

“Hard as it may be, it has given me time to reflect on my own situation. Indeed, I cannot help but think of how different things might be if I myself had been more open, at the right hand of my King, and at Jasper’s side… if only I had told him how I felt before it was too late. What would have become of us then?”

Erik had no choice but to wonder on that too. Something akin to pity rose up in the thief. The question of just what “us” meant when it came to Hendrik and Jasper was at the forefront of his mind, but that secret seemed almost intimately morose, forlorn. Like something that couldn’t be fixed as readily as Hendrik was trying to fix the “us” that was Eleven and Erik. 

He couldn’t have imagined just how similar he and Hendrik ended up being after all. The only difference now was that someone had taken the time to bring Erik back to his senses, before he too would find himself ruminating on the “what ifs” of his life. 

Erik frowned. “Hendrik, man? Are you alright?”

Hendrik shook his head. “I am afraid I have spent too much time making this situation about myself. But please allow me to say one more thing, a word of advice.” Hendrik looked at him square in the eye. “You must not allow the concealment of your true emotions to stand in your way. It would be utterly unwise to lose Eleven because of that. So please, Erik, take heart.”

He would of course; he had to brave, for both his sake and Eleven’s. And needless to say, as surprising as it was, that his conversation with Hendrik had filled him with a renewed sense of purpose. Help had come in stranger forms than this, and now it was up to Erik not to mess things up. Of course, as they say, it was all easier said than done. 

“Right, I will. Thanks.” Erik scratched the side of his head.

A voice rang out to them then, shrill and full of mirth. “Ohh, my little darlings! You’re finally back!” Sylvando waved at the both of them, but the man only had eyes for Erik as he made a beeline straight to the thief. He was not accompanied by anyone else, Erik noted.

“Young man, do you have any idea how worried we all were about you?” Sylv tugged at his ear, earning a yelp from the boy. Hendrik had since moved several steps backwards. A force of primitive instinct perhaps, calling at the knight to be as far away from the dangerous fire that became of Sylvando whenever enraged. 

“Really, what in the world were you thinking? Leaving in the middle of the night like that? Oh, my poor little Ellie. _Mi pobrecito_ \--you’re going march straight to the inn and apologize to him right now, mister!”

Erik stared at Hendrik helplessly, who only shrugged uselessly in reply. Talk about a betrayal… and right after their sweet, sentimental chat, too. “Alright, mom and dad,” Erik surrendered. “I was on my way to do just that, actually. Anything else?”

“Yeah! Just one more thing!” Sylvando released his ear and looked like he was about to beat Erik with the back of his own shoe. But instead the man pulled the other into a tender yet somehow bone crushing hug, stroking his hair like a mother cat watching over a kitten. “Don’t you ever do that again! You know that I can’t stand the thought of losing any of you, not again.”

He eagerly pushed Erik away, encouraging, before fondly wrapping an arm around Hendrik’s. “Now go, my little porcupine! He’s waiting for you!” His voice deepened dramatically and he extended out his free arm, as if spurring on a forbidden romance. Destinies intertwined, lovers again to finally be reunited, the drama… oh, it was almost too much for him.

“Oh, Henny Wenny, they grow up so fast, don’t they?” Sylvando whispered to Hendrik as Erik walked away, soon becoming but a bright blue spec against the dark walls of Octagonia.

“I suppose he seems slightly more mature than he did a few days ago.” Hendrik conceded.

Sylvando pulled him closer, gazing up at Hendrik affectionately. “I’m proud of you too, you know? It looks like Mr. Hero saved the day again. Are you happy now?”

“Sylvando,” Hendrik led him away, arms still entwined, and with an expression as serious as always. However, the softness of his voice gave away to a certain fondness. “You know more than anyone here that I am never happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for sticking around. And thank you to everyone who has commented or left kudos since last time. ELEVEN AND ERIK... NEXT CHAPTER!! Please consider sharing your thoughts if you enjoyed, it would make me very happy. :^)

**Author's Note:**

> Next time, a confession and a resolution.
> 
> Really played myself, a person who does not have confidence in writing dialogue, by writing a whole ass fic based around an argument.
> 
> Thanks for reading & ILU. Please talk to me about Dragon Quest on twitter @ linkcanthropy. 💖


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